Science Projects
by LisaLovesCurry
Summary: Tony contemplates the arc reactor, his friendship with Bruce, and their shared status as unique human science projects.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everybody! "The Avengers" is finally out on whatever type of disc you prefer, and I've finally managed to finish some Avengers fanfic that I've been working on between other stories all summer. This one-shot concerns Tony and Bruce; I love Science Bros., both for romantic fics and friendship fics, so I'm really happy that I finally managed to finish this. It is, FYI, a friendship fic, although Tony does take his shirt off, so that's rather nice. :) (Right now, two of my three Avengers fics feature shirtless Tony…hmm, what a crazy random happenstance. :)) If you get the chance, please review, and thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Marvel universe; I do, however, own Tony and Bruce dolls of my own creation. :) (They're very cute and not at all creepy, I assure you! :))

_Science Projects_

It would have been the understatement of the century to say that the past few years had been strange. After living most of his life as the world's foremost billionaire playboy, a rather surreal existence in and of itself, Tony Stark had thought he'd known from strange. That was before getting hit in the chest with shrapnel from a missile with his name on it (ouch, and usually he was a fan of irony), then waking up with a hole in his chest and an electromagnet inside.

Tony had hated the thing at first. When he'd built the arc reactor, that had been an improvement—at least he didn't have to carry a car battery around with him everywhere he went—but it was still an unpleasant feeling, that constant weight in his chest, and the light that reminded him that he was still alive. Most of the time, that seemed like a good thing—not all the time, but usually.

After a few months of living with the thing, he'd gotten used to it, or at least it had ceased to bother him the way it had initially. It became a tool like any other—not that he'd want a screwdriver or a soldering iron embedded in his chest, but still. It powered the suit and managed the important task of keeping him alive. As long as it was useful, he couldn't really complain about the arc reactor—at least, not without sounding gauche, even by his own impressive standards for tactless comments and behavior.

For a long time though, he'd hated showing it to anyone. He'd showed it to Obie, and look how well that had turned out. Pepper was the only woman who'd gotten a good look at the thing, and even after they'd started dating, it had taken a while for her to convince him that she wasn't as creeped out by it as any sane person would be. Then again, Pepper had put up with him for so many years now that insanity on her part was a distinct possibility. Tony was grateful though; it was a relief, not having to hide the thing from someone. Then he'd met Bruce, and the good Dr. Banner had become another person who wasn't alarmed by the arc reactor so much as curious.

Of course, Bruce wasn't always around—he had his own ways of trying to save the world, which usually involved practicing medicine on the other side of the planet, in countries with names that many people couldn't even pronounce. But whenever Dr. Banner was free, Tony was glad to have him visit. Especially right now, since he was bleeding.

"More safety gear would probably be a good idea next time," Bruce said drily, staunching the flow of blood from a gash on Tony's arm. "And maybe more than one blast shield, just for good measure."

"Yeah, thanks—duly noted," Tony said with a wince. "Usually, the new alloys I test don't fail quite that catastrophically."

Bruce frowned as he cleaned the wound and prepared to stitch it up. "At least you got off with just a piece of metal in your arm. You could put an eye out, working with projectiles like that."

"Not likely, since I was wearing safety goggles and sitting behind a blast shield, though, as you pointed out, that failed too," Tony said, watching Bruce sew up his arm and feeling very grateful for painkillers. "Honestly, I didn't just invite you over to provide first aid, I promise. I've been playing with a new method of energy signature detection that I know you're gonna love, and…what? Please don't make that face while you're holding something sharp attached to a thread attached to my arm."

Bruce had suddenly gone pale. "Sorry, it's just…there's a hole in your shirt."

Tony glanced down and saw what Bruce meant. Probing inside the hole, he found a small shard of metal stuck in the face of the arc reactor. Tony whistled.

"Wow. Really glad this stopped it. I'm pretty sure I've got enough shrapnel in my chest already." Grabbing a pair of pliers, he yanked out the shard of metal and tossed it on the desk. "There. No harm done."

Bruce smiled faintly. "I'm really glad that you aren't slowly bleeding to death from an injury you didn't feel. Do you have much scar tissue around that thing?"

"Nope," Tony said quickly. "I mean, the initial injury was cauterized pretty quickly, so…" That particular memory was a nasty one, punctuated by flashes of pain too intense for Tony to really remember at all, though it wasn't as though he'd ever tried. That was a part of his mind that was too dark, too intimidating for even him to feel comfortable contemplating.

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Can I, maybe…see it?"

Tony sighed, stepping back and pulling his shirt over his head. "I should have known that you were too much of a scientist to resist a chance to actually look at it eventually."

"Well, your descriptions have certainly piqued my interest, and since you're the only person on the planet with an arc reactor embedded in your chest…wow."

"The only person, as far as we know," Tony said with a shrug, trying not to laugh at Bruce's absorbed expression as he stared at the arc reactor. It always struck Tony as a fascinating contrast, the way that inside the brilliant scientist and skilled physician was the world's most dangerous science project. Tony told him so now, and Bruce chuckled.

"You're a pretty volatile science project yourself, you know. I'll bet the side effects of having an arc reactor involved with your cardiopulmonary system are pretty interesting, and mostly positive."

Tony smiled, grateful to have a friend who could actually relate to messed up science misadventures localized within the human body. "Trust me, you have no idea."

"Whoops, should I have knocked first?" Pepper called, smiling quizzically as she entered the lab.

"No, because you know that I would never cheat on you with someone who has more chest hair than I do," Tony said, pulling his shirt back on and not mentioning that he would sooner take more shrapnel to the chest than ever cheat on Pepper.

"That's very comforting, thank you," Pepper said, giving him a wry smile. "Dr. Banner, if Mr. Stark has been exposing himself without your permission, feel free to contact our legal department. They've been getting restless lately, now that there are, sadly, so few supermodels and actresses filing paternity suits against our esteemed CEO."

"None of which I was ever found to be the father in, so," Tony shrugged, marveling once again at his ridiculous good luck—even the arc reactor, in a roundabout way, was proof of his overall good fortune.

"Thanks, but I kind of asked him to—for scientific reasons," Bruce said, smiling. "Wow, that sounded creepy."

Pepper smiled. "I've heard and seen much creepier in this lab, I promise."

"The price you pay for dating a human science project," Tony said, smiling brightly when she handed him a contract to sign.

"Well, you're worth it," she said, retrieving the signed document, "provided you two can get through the day without blowing up the house."

Tony and Bruce glanced at each other.

"We can—"

"Yeah, we can probably…not do that."

Pepper smiled as she left the room. "Just be careful, all right? No more stitches today."

"I will try to keep that in mind, thank you," Tony called after her, sighing as Bruce cleaned his first aid supplies but left his bag within easy reach. Tony knew from experience that he shouldn't make promises regarding explosions or grievous bodily harm, but still, it might be nice to be able to from time to time.

"So," Bruce said. "What's this thing with energy signatures you wanted to show me?"

"Back here," Tony said, motioning toward the other side of the lab. "And I think I can safely say that I won't blow anything up this time."

"Really?" Bruce said dubiously.

Tony shrugged. "There's a thirty percent chance. Maybe forty, at most."

Bruce chuckled. "Well, we both know that risk and scientific progress go hand in hand. Let's see it."

Tony smiled. He was always happy when Bruce visited, because in addition to their shared status as weird living science experiments, they clearly shared a love of discovery, particularly if pyrotechnics were a possibility. "Check this out."


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone! Now that I've seen "Iron Man 3" a couple of times, I find myself totally unable to resist writing more Science Bros stories. So, look out for a few more chapters after this one, eventually. ("Iron Man 3" has given me so many lovely fanfic ideas! :)) Thanks for reading and reviewing, and I'll see you again soon!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Marvel Universe (except for DVDs and comics and action figures and fanart and fanfic…but, you know, no intellectual property :)).

_Science Projects 2_

They'd known each other for a few months before Bruce finally agreed that Tony could record some data on the Hulk in a controlled environment. So far, the only existing footage of the Hulk had been taken either in the middle of a fight or when Bruce had lost control and gone green involuntarily. Tony was looking for different data though: he wanted to try and get a read on the Hulk's strength when Bruce made the conscious decision to change, to see if there were differences between deliberate and involuntary change. Bruce, predictably, had taken some convincing—for some reason, he had a hard time accepting that Tony really wanted him to turn into a giant green smashing machine in the middle of his garage—but eventually, he'd relented, probably because he was just as curious about what they might discover as Tony was. (Just because Bruce didn't like to dwell on the presence of the Other Guy in his life didn't mean that, as a scientist, he wasn't fascinated by the various physics, biology, and ontological problems that the Hulk posed.)

Pepper was at the office, so if the Hulk lost it and started tearing apart the house, at least Tony would be the only one around to witness the damage. Panels in the floor, cameras all around the room, and computers recording everything from heat signature to blood pressure were going to track every second of Bruce's transformation, and in spite of the fact that the Hulk might shortly be destroying the contents of his sanctuary, Tony was eager to see what kind of data they were going to collect—honestly, having the Hulk smash one thing in particular was sort of the point of this test, but Bruce didn't need to be reminded of that right now. Tony could tell that he had enough misgivings already. Of course, since Bruce was the one who'd suggested the Mark XXXVIII, it only seemed fair that he (after a fashion) helped test it.

"Okay, camera's rolling," Tony said, watching Bruce, standing in the middle of the room and looking twitchy. "This is Hulk—sorry, Other Guy, Test One. We're just trying to get some baseline readings today."

"Remind me one more time why this isn't a crazy, terrible idea," Bruce said, glancing nervously at the nearest camera.

"This is an excellent idea because the more we know about your big, green, alter-ego, the safer it'll be for other people to be around him."

Bruce snorted. "Safer. Right. Like a calm lion is safer than an angry one. He could still tear your head off, you know."

"Doubtful," Tony said dismissively. "I know that when you're him, you're not technically you, so maybe you don't know, but when he's not smashing things, I think the Other Guy's pretty okay. He saved my life once, remember? Who knows—he might actually like me—like me enough to not kill me, anyway. Now, are you open to this first test having its own soundtrack?"

"Soundtrack?" Bruce repeated blankly.

"JARVIS?" Tony called. "Hit it."

There was a second's pause, and then "Weird Science" began to play.

Bruce grinned in spite of himself. "Great. That's—hilarious. I'm not gonna lie, I wouldn't mind this, but I'm not sure the Other Guy would be a fan."

"Fair enough," Tony said. "Mute," he called, and the song stopped. "Ready?"

Bruce sighed. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"It's gonna be fine, I promise," Tony said, checking the cameras and then the readouts on the computer. "Heart rate and blood pressure are a little high, but otherwise, all your vitals look normal. Do you need me to provoke you into getting angry, or would you rather do it yourself? Because I've been told I have quite a talent for making people angry."

"Just—put on a suit, all right?" Bruce said. "And if he loses it, lock this place down and wait outside until it gets quiet, okay?"

"Yes, mom," Tony said, stepping into the Mark XII, not that he was sure it would be very effective at protecting him from the Hulk, if it came to that. He kept the helmet open though; he could review everything that JARVIS recorded on the HUD later. "See, suit's on, and I've got the Mark XXXVIII ready too if need be. Now, come on, relax. I mean, don't relax too much—"

"Right, I got it," Bruce sighed. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and then he started to change. Tony knew from videos he'd seen that it was different when Bruce couldn't control the change—it was jerkier, you could see him trying to fight it, and some parts of him might be transformed faster than others. But when Bruce meant to change, it was fluid—he simply started to grow, green spreading over his skin, and within seconds, Bruce was gone, and the Hulk was standing in the middle of the garage, growling quietly and clenching his fists as he took in his surroundings.

"JARVIS, did you get everything?" Tony asked, glancing at the readings on the closest monitor.

"Yes, sir," JARVIS announced. The sudden disembodied voice seemed to unnerve the Hulk—he looked around the room, searching for its source. "All vital signs from before, during, and after Dr. Banner's transformation have been recorded, as well as the rate of growth in height and weight."

"Keep recording," Tony said, watching the Hulk carefully—he was looking down at Tony now, his expression either considering or angry—of course, angry was kind of the Hulk's default look, but there was interest mixed in there too.

"You remember me, right?" Tony said slowly, really hoping that the answer was 'yes.'

The Hulk nodded, snorting with what sounded like impatience.

"Sorry, but that's one of the things I've been meaning to ask you, ever since Bruce finally agreed to this," Tony said, grinning up at the Hulk. "I mean, seriously, you're pretty much the most amazing thing to come out of nuclear physics since the atomic bomb. Are you...I mean, can you remember what happens to Bruce when he's not you?"

The Hulk gave him what Tony guessed was a quizzical look. "What?" he growled.

"Sir, might I suggest not attempting to psychoanalyze your guest?" JARVIS said drily. "Based on my calculations, he could easily tear you in half if he so desired."

"Right, okay," Tony said, pacing back and forth in front of the Hulk. "How do I ask this? You know about Bruce, right?"

The Hulk nodded, looking almost amused. "Banner," he said, his voice low and guttural. "Not me."

"So you're...an independent personality," Tony said slowly. "You and Bruce are separate."

"Connected," the Hulk grunted. "Same body. Different though."

"Okay...so that's kind of an ontological conundrum," Tony said, pacing toward the other side of the garage, "which maybe we'll save for next time. Today, I wanna show you something."

Tony motioned for the Hulk to follow him, and after a moment of what sounded like annoyed growling, he stomped across the room to where the Mark XXXVIII, AKA "Igor," AKA "Hulkbuster" was plugged in and ready to go.

"Technically, I built this for moving heavy stuff," Tony explained. "But, it's also a prototype of a suit I want to build that I'm calling the Hulkbuster. Basically, and this was Banner's idea, not mine...eventually, it should be able to hold its own with you in a fight. You know, if for whatever reason I ever have to take you out."

"Hmm," the Hulk said, eying the suit. He sounded almost...skeptical.

"What, you don't think it looks very threatening? Okay. I know a challenge when I see one. JARVIS," Tony said, snapping down the front of his helmet. "Engage autopilot."

The Hulk watched the suit powering up, and then he grinned as the suit took a step toward him.

"Smash?" he growled.

"With extreme prejudice, please," Tony said, and with a roar, the Hulk sprang forward and aimed a punch at the Hulkbuster. The autopilot reacted instantly and caught the Hulk's fist. The two grappled for a moment, but then the Hulk simply slammed the suit of armor into the closest wall. When it tried to rise, the Hulk punched it in the helmet, crumpling one of the eyepieces and leaving a huge dent.

"Ooh," Tony said, watching the HUD readings. "Glad I'm not wearing that."

With another roar, the Hulk pulled the armor modeled after him upright. The autopilot aimed a punch at the Hulk's abdomen, but when its fist connected, the gauntlet snapped, and with a furious growl, the Hulk simply tore that arm off and threw it over his shoulder. Then he punched the helmet again, which crumpled like a crushed tin can, and the suit went limp as the computer, now destroyed, ceased to send the autopilot's commands to the Hulkbuster's limbs. As soon as the Hulkbuster stopped moving, its namesake tossed it aside with a snarl, then turned and grinned at Tony.

"Finished," he growled, and Tony nodded.

"I'll say. JARVIS, at would point would you say the Hulkbuster failed?"

"Had you been piloting it, sir, I would say that the Mark XXXVIII failed the moment one of its limbs was forcibly removed," JARVIS said. "However, for the purpose of this test, the bursting pressure of the suit was 9000 psi, and as you saw, the suit's integrity was comprised just thirty seconds after testing began."

"Right," Tony said, examining the wreckage of the Hulkbuster through the HUD. Then he snapped the faceplate up and grinned at the Hulk.

"Okay," he said, pleased in spite of himself—after all, this test had shown him how quickly the Hulkbuster in its current state would fail when faced with the actual Hulk. The next time Bruce visited, they'd try again, and one of these days, the suit would be exactly what it needed to be…although the more he got to know Bruce, and the Other Guy, the more Tony hoped he'd never need it for combat purposes. The Hulk wasn't somebody you wanted to _have_ to fight. "You win this round, big guy, but next time, it's going to take you more than thirty seconds to break it. I can build it better next time."


	3. Chapter 3

Hi again! Yes, I wrote another Science Bros fic, because they're extremely fun to write. :) This time, Tony and Bruce talk about artificial intelligence—specifically, the robots Tony has in his garage. Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again soon!

Disclaimer: I own no part of the Marvel Universe, but I do own a copy of "Ultimate Human," a graphic novel about Bruce and Tony that's basically very well done Science Bros fic. :)

_Science Projects 3_

"So, you were bored," Bruce said slowly.

"And drunk," Tony said. "Don't you dare forget drunk."

"You were bored, and drunk, so you started to design an artificial intelligence that's as smart as you?"

"Yeah, basically," Tony said with a shrug, and Bruce shook his head. They were sitting in the garage after another Hulkbuster test, looking at the data they'd just collected on the monitors, and Bruce, in a new set of clothes, was fiddling with a bottle of water and probing for details on one of his favorite subjects: Tony's mechanical friends.

"JARVIS?" Bruce said hesitantly, and Tony grinned—other than him, Pepper and Rhodey were the only other people who talked to JARVIS. Bruce was apparently enough of a friend now to start talking to him too.

"Yes, Dr. Banner?"

"Are you…as far as you can tell, are you really as smart as Tony?"

"Yes and no," JARVIS said. "While I was designed to have roughly the same IQ, I was also programmed with knowledge that Mr. Stark has deemed of lower priority than the contents of his own brain. Additionally, I do not possess Mr. Stark's level of creativity or ingenuity when it comes to managing problems of my own volition, but I am also immune to his famous weaknesses for certain substances and the company of women."

Bruce laughed. "So in some ways, he's smarter, but in other ways, your intelligence exceeds his."

"Correct, Dr. Banner," JARVIS said. "My judgment when it comes to the potential consequences of certain actions certainly appears to be superior."

"Hey, I rarely do things without considering the potential consequences," Tony argued. "I just don't care."

"Yes, sir," JARVIS said drily. "It's one of your more endearing qualities."

"So why haven't you done more with artificial intelligence?" Bruce wondered. "I mean, the robots down here alone seem like something you'd want to pursue."

"Yeah, except the fact is, most people like the idea of robots way more than they like actual robots," Tony said. "And something like JARVIS—people hear about him, and all they can think of is "2001: A Space Odyssey." JARVIS, what do you think? Is the world ready for me to start building more systems that can think for themselves?"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, sir," JARVIS said, mimicking Hal. Tony and Bruce both laughed.

"See, that would scare the hell out of most people," Tony said, smiling appreciatively at Bruce. "Thank you for being able to tell that he's kidding."

"You know your audience, JARVIS," Bruce said. "Why would I of all people be unnerved by sentient machines?"

"I just find that in general, people are unnerved," Tony said. "They hear the words "robot" or "artificial intelligence," and every movie they've ever seen involving some killer machine flashes through their head. That whole thing with Asimov's laws of robotics—I know that they were theoretical when he invented them, but a machine's a machine, and I'm confident that I built JARVIS well enough that he's not gonna try and kill me someday."

"Sir, it bears mentioning that you are enough of a danger to yourself that you've rendered it almost entirely unnecessary to attempt to kill you."

"Duly noted," Tony said, sipping his own drink, which was Scotch and a splash of water.

"Then what about the robots?" Bruce wondered. "I guess I don't see why your company hasn't pursued developments in robotics more enthusiastically."

"When I first built these guys, sure, there was some buzz," Tony said with a shrug. "But aside from the Rumba, most people don't see it as feasible to actually have robots in your house. The whole thing still seems too sci-fi, I guess. Anyway, they do require a lot of…direction. Dummy! Hey, didn't I ask you to sweep that up? Dummy? No sleeping on the job, pal."

Dummy, who had been motionless, resumed sweeping with what seemed to Bruce to be the robotic equivalent of boredom.

"He doesn't like sweeping," Tony explained, "in as much as a machine that I built to help with chores can have preferences, I mean."

Bruce chuckled. "Okay, so they're not perfect, but machines that can learn…seems like your company would have tried to monetize that by now."

"Bruce, this may seem like business as usual to you, but to most people, the fact that I build robots and then hang out with them in my garage is what puts the 'eccentric' in 'eccentric billionaire,'" Tony said drily. "Obviously, my robotics department is thrilled whenever I mention what goes on down here, but for the first thirty-odd years of my life, every idea I brought to the table at work had to do with weapons. These guys aren't weapons, so I never really pushed to develop them into something we could sell. And again, even if the military had been interested, the PR campaign would have been an uphill battle, to say the least—anyone who's ever seen a _Terminator_ movie would think me building battle drones was the beginning of the end of the world. And Justin Hammer's little stunt last year has just made people even more suspicious of having machines do human jobs. Self-aware machines just seem even riskier."

"See, but I don't get that," Bruce argued. "People are fine with the idea of unmanned drones being used in combat, and there are already tons of robots doing what used to be human jobs already. Why do machines get scary the instant they develop a personality?"

"It's all about perception," Tony said with a shrug. "Robots that do our work for us without any kind of independent thought are seen as tools—they're no scarier than a screwdriver. But robots that can think force people to think too, to ask questions. If something can think, how close to human is it? How should we treat a thinking being, even if its intelligence is something we've created? At what point does artificial intelligence stop being artificial and start being something that humanity has to acknowledge and learn to live alongside?"

Bruce smiled and shook his head. "I guess you've given it a lot of thought."

Tony shrugged. "The kinds of weapons I spent most of my life building should be way more frightening than, say, Stark Tower, but they're not—because people are used to the idea of weapons. Buildings that run on clean energy though—that's different, that's new, and to a lot of people, that equates to scary. People wonder what it's going to lead to, and I don't have an easy answer to that, so they…worry. Adapting to new technologies takes time. But as long as the people who matter don't worry, neither do I. Pepper's usually a good litmus test—if she thinks an idea is crazy, then it probably is. If she thinks an idea is something that will sell, then it usually does."

Bruce glanced behind them at the sweeping robot. "So, Dummy…"

"Is fine in the lab, where I can keep an eye on him," Tony said. "The average person doesn't have time to train a robot, particularly one that requires constant supervision. And JARVIS isn't the kind of thing I'd ever try and mass produce—most people wouldn't have enough for him to do. Imagine a world filled with millions of bored AIs. In a case like that, I could kind of see why people might worry about killer robots—AIs might take over the world just to have something to do. At least I make sure he has plenty of stuff to keep him occupied, right JARVIS?"

"You are nothing if not interesting, sir," JARVIS said, and Bruce smiled. JARVIS was right about that.


End file.
